A Lost Adventurer
by terrapin01
Summary: A character from a campaign that was abandoned, I was sad he's had to lie dormant for all these years. Well now he's going to power his way through various stories and other games. ml#id 8287


_You, one who has lost your world, one so corrupted and broken, you can never belong anywhere else. Come and explore the myriad of other universes as a traveler. You will not truly become part of any world, but let it be a respite from your current state of nothingness._

* * *

Pulled out of something less real than the ether, Mythos Mgodil stepped out in front of an aging castle by a lake and a forest. Sure there were absolutely no clues to go on at this point, but it was far better than Nothing, and slightly better than the world he existed in before Nothing.

Strolling on up through the courtyard to the front gates...well, he didn't particularly know what he should do. Although free of railroads, a distinct lack of information could also be a bit grating. A universe should exist in a happy medium; but if it shows no inclination towards any result, he would be free to do as he pleased.

Not being intolerably sociopathic, Mythos knocked.

"How can I help yeh sir?" A lumbering man with a beard seemed to have heard his knocking. Surprisingly taller than Mythos by around four feet, perhaps a member of a giant race. He had a fairly affable aura about him, but given the treachery he was used to, Mythos remained on his guard.

"I can't say in particular. I've spent most my life as a mercenary, so I was hoping the lord of this castle might have some jobs for me to do." Shrugging, he kept a Greater Invisibility spell readied.

"Yer lookin' fer a job, are yeh? Well, Hogwarts is the greatest wizarding school in the world, so I doubt Dumbledore'll be willing to take in just anyone."

"Oh, so it's a Wizard's College is it? In that case I do still have a number of funds set aside, I'd be willing to purchase some scrolls from you if you have any. Preferably those of the 7th level, or 7th circle, however you call them here."

"Huh?"

"Huh?"

"Er, what do you mean a '7th level spell'? One ye'd learn in yer seventh year of classes?" The giant seemed rather confused by his offer.

"You know... a seventh level spell..." Mythos needed a moment to think, despite his old universe having gifted him a Tome of Clear Thought, his Charisma was still lacking. How else were spells to be described if not through level? "Banishment, Phase Door, Prismatic Spray, Statue, Limited Wish..."

"Those don't sound like any spells I've ever 'eard of." Maybe Statue and Banishment weren't the best choices, but Mythos also didn't want to say Greater Teleport or Energy Immunity which he had prepared at the moment. Was this universe just weak?

"So what spells do you know?"

"Ah, just the little stuff, like Lumos, or doing some simple transmutation."

"This is astoundingly unhelpful. I don't suppose you could send for this Dumbledore fellow instead?"

"'Ave yeh never heard of Dumbledore before? He's the greatest wizard since Merlin!"

"I have no information about the locals here, whatsoever. I know neither Merlin nor Dumbledore."

"Blimey, you've never heard of Merlin? He's even more famous than Atlantis or-"

"Nope, I give up." Leaving that incredibly useless character behind, Mythos decided on simply jogging out of the courtyard. He gave it his best shot, if a dialogue goes on that long without progress or any indication of benefits, it was best to just let it go and find something else. The whole reason he risked his life adventuring was because he was currently still mortal, there was no time to waste on things that might not pan out.

* * *

With his boots of expeditious retreat, his form quickly vanished down the path that led away from the castle, coming to an idyllic little village. Spotting his choice of two inns, he figured he had a better chance at finding work in the dingier looking one. Since this was likely a college town, Mythos would rather skip running errands for students that no doubt frequented a more proper establishment.

Taking a step into the Hog's Head Inn, the place was so dilapidated and filthy, Mythos wished he'd made goggles instead of a monocle to keep the dirt out of his bulging eyes. At least he could still see quite easily in such a dim environment. Looking around, there were numerous rough and/or hooded figures about. Hopefully he could find something here.

Settling onto the stool at the bar, he slid a gold coin onto the counter.

"A good meal and as many drinks as the leftover pays for."

An old man with a bushy grey beard shuffled over, setting down the filthy rag he was using to clean out mugs. Picking it up, he eyed it strangely, as if doubting its authenticity.

"What's this?"

"..." Not again. This place at least knew gold had value, right? What backwater didn't understand "It's a gold coin."

"Yes, but not a galleon. Rather heavy though, might be worth more even."

"And I'm wondering where in the world I've ended up that doesn't simply use gold. Do you take silver? Copper? Platinum? By Baator, do you add additional steps into your crafting calculations just because you can?" Mythos was rubbing his temples to express his displeasure, although his rant was mostly to himself. He was only buying food and drink to have an excuse to sit and eavesdrop. He had everlasting rations and two, _two,_ Field Provision Boxes. For lodgings there was always Rope Trick. "Scratch the order, you keep the coin. Is there any work fit for a wizard in this place? Combat or research in particular."

"Hmph, wanting to see combat. I'm sure if you wait a year there'll be a position in Hogwarts for you to take up. No one ever lasts as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"So be it, can't find anything else to do in this backwater. I've still got spells to finish transferring and items to finish crafting. Where do I apply?"

"Eh...really?" The old man looked shocked, despite being the one to suggest it himself. He was half joking, and half joking meant you were half serious. Mythos needed some direction to the plot, and if he had to plant himself in its path ahead of time, then so be it. That dark forest next to the castle looked haunted, there were probably monsters within he could grind experience and materials while he waited.

"Yes, seriously. I know over 100 abjuration spells alone, amongst innumerable anti-undead and anti-outsider spells. I've been training in the arcane arts since I first came into being."

"Then...send a letter to Hogwarts and hope you're accepted. Though I doubt the current teacher will be very happy someone is trying to replace him before the first day of school."

"Well if he's going to be out of there before next year, I hardly see a reason to worry." Mythos retrieved parchment and ink from his pack, and began listing his qualifications; leaving out anything in regards to most of his past companions. Vying for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts may have meant that fending off his acquaintances may have counted for something, accompanying them for as long as he did would probably be a strike against him. "That's that then, thank you for your assistance. My name is Mythos Mgodil, if you need anything taken care of, I'll be lurking about until next year."

Just as quickly as he came, he left. Returning up the road to deliver his application before hunting in the forest.

* * *

Unsure of where to put the letter, and with no one responding to his knocking, Mythos cast Amanuensis, six times with the help of his pearls of power, leaving just one copy at the foot of the main entrance for today. Then he went to look for a fight.

The trees were dark, and shaded the area looked suitably dismal. There had to be something vicious crawling in these woods.

Coming across what looked to be a half-fiend horse, Mythos exercised caution...by not underestimating its capabilities and opening with a form of his Signature Spell, an Invisible Energy Substituted Admixture (Fire/Fire) Elemental Dart. The resulting burning flesh scattered over a few dozen yards, and more importantly the lack of experience, suggested he vastly overestimated its threat.

Then, whilst wandering, a centaur made an attempt to cross his path.

"You, human, you dare pass into centaur territory?"

"Yes. Fireball." While not _intolerably_ sociopathic, Mythos had since realized that dialogue was mostly a waste of time, and was not hesitant in avoiding a third irritatingly unproductive conversation in one day. He quickly whipped out his Infinity Tome(Rary's Mnemonic Enhancer, command word), capable of replenishing any spell 3rd level or under that had been cast the round before provided you had 10 free minutes. It's other use of preparing more spells at the beginning of the day would be particularly abusable once he made his Tome of Recollection(Mordenkainen's Lucubration).

Though if he didn't find something powerful enough to replenish his experience, he may have to create a Thought Bottle. While he had no qualms with twisting the world in unnatural ways through the use of magic, having a copy of his thoughts in an external object seemed like it might be a hazard. Understanding your opponent can grant you a great deal of power over them, and Mythos was loathe to give possible enemies a chance to quite literally steal his thoughts.

Night was beginning to fall, yet he'd found nothing, but a few unicorns, hippogriffs, and common wolves, all which seemed to have the wisdom to avoid him. There were also a number of Large spiders that found themselves fried after coming after him.

Mythos was beginning to think this was all a waste of time, he should have just kept not existing.

At least until he saw a green light flash in the distance. Making his way over to the point of interest, he noisily stepped on branch after branch. It wasn't intentional, but he was too enthralled by the idea of getting out of this rut. By the time he got near, a cloaked figure hunched over a unicorn spilling silver blood was looking up at him.

"Oi, you dastardly looking fellow. Are you some ghoul, or might you have the intellect to hire my services?"

"You dare-"

"Elemental Dart" Mythos had heard enough monologues to know where this was going, although he was surprised to see the shady character shuffle off his mortal coil. Monologues usually indicated a villain of some import...ah, there a ghostly remnant. "Magic Missile"

The shape had hardly begun wailing before it dissipated as well.

"By Boccob I hate this reality." But the campaign hadn't ended yet, so there had to be more for him to accomplish. "Nope, I'm using my Alacritous Cogitation for the day. Legend Lore."

"Voldemort, evil dark wizard thought dead...wants to kill anyone with nonmagical blood? He's a sorcerer? The wizards...sorcerers of this world are in hiding? Why does it seem like everyone is so low level? I guess I have to take care of it in eight hours."

Mythos cast Rope Trick and crawled up into the extradimensional space, the sooner he rested, the sooner he could prepare his full set of spells. Hoping he only had to take care of Voldemort and not all the Death Eaters, Mythos ate some food and fell asleep.

* * *

"Circle Dance! Circle Dance! Draconic Polymorph! Bite of the Weretiger! Greater Teleport...What." Teleporting had worked, but placed him in a treasure vault of some sort. Voldemort couldn't have coincidentally been in this room 12 seconds ago before teleporting out for some reason, could he? "Alacritous Cogitation: Circle Dance." The pain of using his reserved 6th level slot on a 3rd level spell was almost physical. And the spell pointed him towards a diary.

Hm, a phylactery perhaps? He didn't seem particularly undead, and died far too easily for a lich...a low level variant perhaps. And it did register as a sort of Necromancy on Detect Magic.

Well, he could just stab it and check again after 8 hours...after preparing many more Circle Dances. For now, he pierced it through with his claw, strictly speaking his bite would do more damage, but he didn't want his mouth to be filled with paper, and his boney spikes were more than enough to tear it apart.

"Rope Trick"

* * *

Mythos spent an additional two hours to prepare 12 additional Circle Dance spells. Hopping out of extradimensional space and into the vault, Circle Dance no longer registered the tattered diary as Voldemort...but it did point elsewhere.

"This is a pain...well, no point in thwarting evil for free." Being in a vault Voldemort had been in, this may very well be a pile of treasures belonging to another evil fellow. An abundance of green snakes and skull-shaped items did little against this notion. Throwing anything with a strong aura, or artsy into his Secret Chest.

As a member of the Council of New Hector, he'd had a permanent base. Now that he was a vagabond, Mythos considered using some of his precious experience to make a few more bags of holding in the future.

With some compensation in tow, it was onto business.

"Circle Dance! Circle Dance! Draconic Polymorph! Bite of the Weretiger! Greater Teleport! This is a run down little place. Detect Magic."

Easily smashing through the floorboards with his positively divine strength, he spotted a tiny golden box that contained a tiny little ring set with a black stone and a strange shape on it.

"Analyze Dweomer. Hmph, definitely a discount phylactery alright. Has a little curse on it too, at least he's not a complete idiot." Having a little difficulty piercing such a small object, he withdrew a stupid axe he somehow acquired. A Great Axe with keen, mighty cleave, Fire, Cold and Lighting type 1...though most of those weren't relevant, it technically outclassed the +5 magic fang he'd gotten a druid to permanency on himself. Of course, not being proficient in axes was a problem in real combat as well, but since his spells were usually better, there was no reason to want to use it in the first place. As it struck, the ring sparked and burned, before shattering the thing into pieces. A black mist started to come after him, but failed to take effect. Even a greater bestow curse would only have a 25% chance of working on him.

And he'd even been ready to alacritous cogitation a Remove Curse spell for it.

"Circle Dance...another one? I'll leave it for tomorrow then." Mythos could only hope this inferior demilich wasn't creating more than one per day, otherwise, this would take a while.

* * *

"Another day, another phylactery. Circle Dance! Circle Dance! Draconic Polymorph! Bite of the Weretiger! Greater Teleport!" This time Mythos found himself in another old and abandoned looking place. It simply wasn't good form, did the wizards here lack proper divination spells? Better to have just one, or maybe two, and put your effort into spamming a bunch of curses onto your phylactery. At least that way it's likely the person hunting you will fail one save.

"You, what are you?" A pale and deformed...make that regular, goblin seemed to be in the room with him, shrieking. Kythons were admittedly not the prettiest of critters to most, though Mythos found them quite charming himself. His mouth in this form had trouble with common as well, and he doubted this goblinoid spoke Infernal. So he ignored it for the moment. "Detect Magic. Analyze Dweomer."

_Fool, you think you can achieve immortality-_

Ever impatient with the taunting dialogue, Mythos smashed this one to bits as well. Voldemort should have stuck with the curse idea.

"You...you did it! You destroyed-"

"Rope Trick." Not bothering with the albino goblin's celebration, he rested for another eight hours.

* * *

"Who are you?"

"Circle Dance! Circle Dance! Draconic Polymorph! Bite of the Weretiger! Greater Teleport!" Another vault of treasure. It was certainly a shame he couldn't fit any more into his chest. "Detect Magic."

It was all magic. Everything, down to the coins were magic. But given the relative position of where he teleported to and the phylactery in question meant it should be the object three feet ahead, a golden cup.

"Analyze Dweomer. Yep that's it. And this isn't a bad trap, if it weren't for how easy it is to escape. Oh well, guess they don't have any clerics on staff. Are there really still more of these? Damn, this sure would be an extended drag if I couldn't just search and destroy like this. Rope Trick"

* * *

"Circle Dance! Circle Dance! Draconic Polymorph! Bite of the Weretiger! Greater Teleport!...Excuse me?" Finally, he'd hit a roadblock. Mythos found that Greater Teleport finally failed him; it would have to be due to some sort of ward. And given how absolutely patheric everyone in this realm was at magic, he used his other Greater Teleport to hop in 50 feet further in his desired direction.

"Greater Teleport!" With what seemed to be absolute combat superiority, he decided against keeping a Greater Teleport for escape. Alacritous Cogitationing a regular one would suffice in an emergency. Appearing several feet in the air due to angles, he clacked to the ground, his enhanced dexterity easily keeping himself stable even in such an aberrant form. Looking in the direction he needed to go, he saw a door which led to...

Another messy room filled with gewgaws of all sorts. The world was mocking his limited carrying capacity, and wasting his talents as a combatant.

There was a general pile that he knew the object should be in, but due to not placing himself in arms reach of it, Mythos was unaware of what exactly he was looking for. Not that that posed a problem.

"Detect Magic." Aura of necromancy. "Analyze Dweomer...It's a +4 headband of intellect." At this point he just felt a bit of pity about how poor Voldemort was. It would be better to just buy a brick of adamantine. Having his own +6 headband, Mythos felt not the least bit of desire for the diadem. The time it took him did mean that Bite of the Weretiger had worn off though. "Alacritous Cogitation, Disintegrate. Rope Trick."

Leaving behind a pile of dust, he rested once more.

* * *

"Circle Dance! Circle Dance! Draconic Polymorph! Bite of the Weretiger! Greater Teleport!"

"GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

"IYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

Now for something completely different, this time he appeared before four people eating dinner in a nice little home. A fat man, a fat son, a thin woman with a long neck, and an out of place, disheveled looking boy with glasses and a lightning bolt scar. Mythos didn't even have to use magic to know what was going on here, but it wouldn't do to be incautious.

"Detect Magic. Analyze Dweomer." His crackling, hissing voice scared the peasants and they began retreating from him. Not that the small boy's 5-foot steps meant anything to someone who had a move speed of 80 feet.

"Okay, props to you for this one. Embed your soul in a child so heroes can't finish you off." Impaling the boy's head and heart, Mythos shook his head, ignoring the fainting family members. It was just a bit weak against more ruthless folk, wasn't it?

But in the end, Mythos didn't want to sow seeds of conflict with others. Sacrificing creatures to evil deities was _really_ pushing the definition of Chaotic Neutral, so he had to offset that somehow. Reverting to human form to tie up and gag the remaining family members, he waited...another eight hours.

"That vault better have been worth 5,000gp..."Taking out a combination of his pre-existing diamond dust, and diamonds from the various treasures in the vault, Mythos made a small pile. "Limited Wish: Raise Dead."

With a Least Wish(Prestidigitation), he cleaned up the blood from impaling the child, and with that the campaign was finished.

* * *

EPILOGUE:Harry Potter grew up to be a normal wizard, though his weak constitution limited his otherwise adept skill at dueling. The Malfoy family, experiencing a sudden loss of funds experienced troubled times, but were quickly able to recover. After the sudden disappearance of Quirrel, Albus Dumbledore sought out a 'Mythos Mgodil', who'd coincidentally left a note mentioning a desire for employment earlier that day, but could never find him.


End file.
